Fortune
by orangeflavor
Summary: "'That one,' she said suddenly, her chopsticks pinning down a still-wrapped cookie in the middle of his pile. 'That's your fortune, buddy.'" - Chinese food and confessions. A day in the life of James and Shepard.


Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no money.

Author's Note: Written with the same Shepard and James from "Mercurial", but can be read as a stand-alone.

Fortune

"' _That one,' she said suddenly, her chopsticks pinning down a still-wrapped cookie in the middle of his pile. '_ That's _your fortune, buddy.'_ " - Chinese food and confessions. A day in the life of James and Shepard.

"Pass me the soy sauce."

James stopped chewing his mouthful of chop suey and lifted his head at her request, chopsticks still shoved half in his mouth.

Bree Shepard sat with one hand open expectantly, a box of fried rice in the other.

James grunted his response and grabbed the bottle of soy sauce beside him, leaning over the outside deck table on the balcony of Shepard's Silverson Strip apartment to hand it to her.

"Thanks." Bree smiled as she grabbed the bottle from him and propped her feet up on the opposite chair.

"Ohh, fortune cookies!" James almost squealed, catching sight of the stash beside her on the table. He set his box of chop suey down and rummaged through the take-out box for a handful, still leaned over the table.

"Hey," Bree said, poking him in the side with her chopsticks. "Sit down. You're blocking the view." She motioned to the neon flood of lights from the Silversun Strip.

James cocked one teasing brow as he glanced at her. "Babe, I _am_ the view."

Bree rolled her eyes but chuckled. She set her box of rice down on the table and started pulling her blonde hair back into a pony-tail.

James sat back down with a handful of fortune cookies and then proceeded to open them. All of them.

Bree secured the tie in her hair and picked her chopsticks back up. "You know only the first one counts, right?" She raised an amused brow his way.

He flashed her a grin. "Not true. It's the one you _choose_."

"That makes no sense."

"'Course it does." Another opened and discarded cookie.

"You're just too picky," she mouthed around her fried rice.

"And you settle too easy." Wrappers started piling up in front of him.

Bree sighed dramatically. "You might be right there. After all, I did settle for some lousy lieutenant with a penchant for shuttlecar theatrics and absolutely _no_ sense of humility whatsoever."

He winked saucily at her, hands stilling on a cookie. "Happy to be of service."

"That one," she said suddenly, her chopsticks pinning down a still-wrapped cookie in the middle of his pile. " _That's_ your fortune, buddy."

He gave her a skeptical look. "This one?" He pointed to it.

She pursed her lips, tapping the wrapper once with her chopsticks. "That one."

He heaved a dramatic sigh and dropped the bits of cookie in his hand to the table, grabbing at the appointed cookie instead. "I'm going to trust you on this one, okay, babe?"

"Okay."

"And this is super important, you know, choosing your fortune and all."

She shoved a small pile of rice into her mouth. "I know."

"Like, you can't just pick one at random. That's not how this works." He leaned an elbow on the table, chin in his palm, and looked at her, motioning with the chosen cookie in his free hand.

She smiled around the food in her mouth. "I've got a feeling about this one."

"Or you just want me to stop littering your deck table with cookie crumbs."

"Oh, I don't care about that. You're cleaning it up, after all." She slumped comfortably back in her chair and quirked a challenging brow his way.

"What?" he asked incredulously, straightening up. "I thought the one who bought didn't have to clean. Isn't that the rule?"

Bree swallowed down a mouthful so she could retort, "Yeah, but you forgot to ask for the eggrolls and you ordered the wrong size wonton so that rule is null and void."

"Ugh, you're such a slave-driver." He dragged his arm off the table and ran a hand down his face with the groan.

"Don't make me pull rank." She smirked behind her box of rice.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "And so petty, too," he grumbled.

Bree laughed, and then motioned at the cookie in his hand with her chopsticks. "Aren't you going to open it?"

"I'm too afraid your fortune will kill me," he responded, frowning as he looked at the cookie in his hands.

"Oh my god, don't be such a baby." She nudged his knee with her foot. "Open it."

"Okay. Just…my life is in your hands." He spread one hand out like a surrender.

"This guy…" she chuckled beneath her breath.

"Alright, here goes." He tore the wrapper open and broke the cookie with one clean crack. James pulled the paper out from the two halves and read it silently. And then he frowned, his brows dipping low. A sound of frustration brewed in his throat. And then he spread his hands over the table top and glared up at her. "I hate you."

She burst out laughing, a couple grains of rice flying past her lips and she had to slap a hand to her mouth to hold back the peel of laughter.

James groaned petulantly and laid his head back against the chair.

"What does it say?" Bree finally managed to ask between giggles.

James closed his eyes and shook his head. "'Enjoyed the meal? Buy one to-go, too.'" He huffed, pursing his lips.

Bree's laughter burst forth again, but she managed to contain it faster than the first time. Still chuckling, she dropped her feet down from their perch so she could lean toward him. She slapped his thigh and beamed at him. "Could be worse."

He peeked one eye open to look at her. "You're so, so bad at this, you know that?"

"Come on," she urged, leaning back in her chair. "You've got to think about this metaphorically." She waved her chopsticks in the air as she said it.

"I'm pretty sure they were being quite literal with this one." James sat up and grabbed the fortune again, narrowing his eyes at it.

"It shouldn't matter though, right? Like you said, your fortune's the one you choose." Bree dove into her box of fried once again. "So choose what you want it to mean. _Make_ it yours."

James' lips slowly pulled back into a grin. He scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

Bree nodded silently, her mouth full.

James shrugged his shoulders and picked his chop suey back up, the fortune forgotten amongst the crumbs on the table. "I guess it could mean…you." A sudden mischievous glint shown in his eye.

Bree stopped chewing and eyed him suspiciously.

"After all," he began around a mouthful. "I've been thinking about getting that Shepard VI. I hear they're all the rage these days."

Shepard swallowed down her rice quickly and clucked her tongue. "Forget it, you know I hate those things."

James looked pretty satisfied with himself as he took another bite of his food. "I want to hear 'Anyone ever tell you you're one hell of a looker, soldier?' every night before I go to bed."

"God, you're irritating."

"Hey, you chose the fortune, not me. I'm just rolling with the punches, babe."

"Oh I'll give you a punch if that's what you're asking for."

"Nope." He beamed warmly at her around his food. "Just you. I'm only asking for you, babe." And then he winked at her again and looked back to his food, humming softly to himself.

Bree stilled her chopsticks above the remains of her rice and cocked her head as she just…looked at him. The air was cool, and the light hum of passing shuttlecars in the night was soothing. Lights flicked over James' face as he ate obliviously beside her. He looked so happy, and so free, and so…

Bree laughed inwardly at herself.

James noticed the silence and blinked up at her, raising his brows in question. "What?" he said, the word muffled by the food in his mouth.

"Nothing, I just…" She shook her head, laughing. "It's nothing."

He swallowed down his mouthful. "What?" he asked again.

Bree leaned back in her chair and sighed, eyes going toward the neon lights past the balcony. She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. "It's just I've…only just realized I'm in love with you." She glanced at him, smiling, and then went back to her food.

James stared at her.

When he didn't answer, Bree looked back at him.

James set his box of chop suey down on the table and laid his chopsticks next to it. Slowly, his lips pulled back over his blinding smile. He leaned his elbows over the table and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Was it the tats? I bet you it was the tats. Tell me it was the tats."

Bree rolled her eyes and poked around her rice carton with her chopsticks. "You have bean sprout in your teeth."

He swiped a tongue over his teeth behind his lips. "Good?"

She looked back, eyeing his bared teeth. "All clear."

And then he smiled at her again, and crooked a finger at her. "Come here." He puckered his lips and made kissy noises.

She pulled back, nose crinkling. "Ugh, no."

"Come on, babe," he whined.

"No." She took another bite of food. She sighed at his petulance, but couldn't help the smile creeping across her face. "Later," she said.

"Later?" His face brightened, a wolfish grin planted along his lips.

"Later," she promised.

He nodded, mostly to himself it seemed, and picked his carton back up. "I do too, you know."

"Hmm?"

"Love you."

She chuckled softly, not even glancing at him as she finished her rice. "I know."

"I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember."

She set her empty carton on the table and popped the end of her chopsticks in her mouth, savoring the last of the flavor, and then popped them back out. "Okay, yeah, but remember the eggrolls next time or I won't believe you." She raised a challenging brow his way, leaning her elbows over the table.

James mock saluted, smirking at her. "Aye, aye, Commander."

"Good."

"Alright."

"Yeah."

He smiled at her. She watched him quietly.

They left the fortune on the table.

They already chose each other.


End file.
